


I'm Almost Me Again, She's Almost You...

by the_tattooed_dog_trainer



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Love, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-22 16:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tattooed_dog_trainer/pseuds/the_tattooed_dog_trainer
Summary: So, here we are, my first AU.We will be doing a jump forward.Right now our story takes place present day Riverdale.We will be flashing back.We will be flashing forward.Hold on tight :-)Inspiration from bughead's tumblr, "i’m almost me again, she’s almost you" edit.If you haven't seen the edit, it is a gif set that is AMAZING, the summation is "the AU where betty and jughead are exes who, despite their best efforts, can’t quite seem to move on."





	I'm Almost Me Again, She's Almost You...

It ended with just three words. And I know it was my fault. I know I owed him more than that, but she was right. How could I fight blood? More than that, how could I fight the force of which that gave him life? So, that was it. There was nothing else to bind me to this place. The house was gone, to boot. Funnily enough, it was his now. I sniffled and wiped my chapped, red nose against the back of my pink cashmere sleeve and wrapped my sleeves around myself. What was left: 8 pairs of jeans, 4 polo's in various candy-stripper esque hues, 10 pastel sweater sets, numerous undergarments, a half used journal, and a signed copy of "Beloved" by Toni Morrison and they all lay inside a taupe rolling suitcase. 

It was almost 5 am. The lawyer would be meeting me at the prison shortly. I closed my eyes and drew in a long, deep breath, trying with all my will power to ground myself. Slowly I let my breath out. As I released that breath I tried to imagine roots shooting out from my feet, extending into the white and black tiles of the Chock' Lit Shoppe floor. I tried to imagine my back searing and marking the red booth like one of the thousand's of burgers Pop had served and would continue to long after I've left. Let them know that I, Betty Cooper existed here. I lived here, and I loved here. Oh, how I loved here. Images of Jug's sky blue eyes and long, dark lashes slam into me and I claw to shake them off as tears slides down my cheek. 

“You alright, Dear?” I hear a voice coming from behind me shake me out of my haze.

All too thankful for Pop's distraction I smile at the man who has become like a Grandfather to me, “Yes Pop, thank you. How much for the coffee and the bagel?”

“Oh no, no,” he chuckles heartily, “I was about to ask you, a penny for your thoughts, and knowing how deep of a thinker you are, I know enough to cover breakfast,” he says with a knowing smile.

I know there's no use fighting and rather smile sheepishly. I'm going to miss him so. And though he doesn't know it, just his presence alone on more than one occasion has given me the emotional witherall to set about my task, today no exception; today, most important of all. As Pops back is turned, I set a folded five underneath my coffee cup and stand, grabbing my pink trench coat and encasing myself, getting ready to face the Fates. I reach under the booth and grasp my suitcase I've stowed and attempt my exist as stealthy as possible until I hear the clearing of Pop's throat, “Betty...”  
I turn slowly, not quite able to meet his eyes, my fingers instinctively flexing inward towards their protective palm sheathing. “I know it hasn't always been easy for you around here, but you have people Betty. You have to know that people love you and they care for you. Now, you're not a kid anymore. Hurts me to say this, seeing as I've watched you grow. And you know, you know. I've always seen you kids- Archie, Jughead,-” a gasp escapes my lips and my eyes fly to his. My hand flies up to cover my now quivering my lip and I quickly shake my head, steeling my nerves against the coming storm of emotions. I will not do this. It's almost all over with, I can get through this if I just hold on a little bit longer. Pop eyes me warily, I can tell there's a war waging within him internally as well, to continue or not, he considers a moment more, closes his eyes, sighs, and then opens his eyes, course decided, “I've seen you kids grow up. I know you're not technically an adult yet, but, you've dealt with more than most adults – you're grown. I'm proud of you all. I just, don't want you to do anything foolish. You're not your parents Betty, no need to go paying for their sins or repeating them, okay?” He finished, giving her a sad smile. Betty at this, couldn't find her words. Her mind was made up, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't go down a different road. There was nothing left here. She was a but a puppet, having her strings pulled at this point. She smiled at him woefully and then hung her head, “Thank you for everything Pop,” she said as she turned on her heel and made her departure quickly this time from the Chock' Lit Shoppe, not daring to steal a glance over her shoulder as she made her way to the prison.

Betty's stomach churned as she descended the narrow, concrete hallway. Echo's of depraved souls bounced off the ceiling and entered her ear canals burrowing their way into her soul. She shivered and reached up behind her to pull her signature ponytail tight, fixing her eyes straight ahead. The guard next to her licked his lips and smirked, “They're all animals here, no better than the one you're related to Cooper, wouldn't act so high and mighty if I were you.” Betty set her jaw tight and flexed her hands, fighting the urge to allow nail to bite palm. She knew these men were too versed in reading body language and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of any response, rather, she quickened her pace, trying to get there and end this faster. They finally reached Hal's cell, closed off from the rest, solitary confinement. It didn't matter how many times she'd visited this man, she'd never gotten used to this picture, her father the visual embodiment of Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs. The cell bars floor to ceiling, and encased in glass barrier outside, floor to ceiling as well. Inside his tomb, shelves of books, no doubt psychological in nature and a smattering of car manuals for good measure. A picture Sweet Water River on the wall. His own “private” bathroom which really, was only a toilet and a sink. A narrow cot with white sheets, the thinnest blanket, and one pillow without a case adorn the bed. A cut-out in the cell allows just enough space for a tray to be passed inside for food. There's also a small metal table and one chair in the middle of the room where Hal Cooper is currently seated with a beaming smile. In the room already waiting for her is a tall woman, about 5'8 with blonde hair pulled back into a tight chignon, skin tight above knee black pencil skirt, and matching black blazer with an emerald green camisole peeking out from underneath. She appraises Betty behind a pair of thick black glasses and extends her hand, “Miss Cooper, I presume?”

“Yes..I'm Betty....Elizabeth Cooper, I mean.” Betty says suddenly very nervous and extremely aware of all the contents in her stomach. 

“Elizabeth, I am your father's attorney, Megan Lovelace. You and I spoke on the phone about your emancipation. I want you to understand your rights, and how this involves your father, considering the, ahem, situation, with your mother. This is a courtesy to you and my client is not under-”

“Meg that's enough!” Hal cuts in shooting Megan daggers. Hal stands from the table and slowly walks towards the bars until he is standing almost directly in front of Betty. This is something Betty has never been able to understand. This enigmatic presence this man holds. It's akin to a moth to a flame, the draw she has to Hal. His smile has wattage like a light bulb. She finds herself cocking her head, waiting for him to speak again, strung out for his next word. What is this sorcery? “Betty dear,” Hal starts, “In our state, you're considered emancipated if you're not financially dependent on either parent, are over 16, have a job, and you've not been put in foster care or under court supervision yet. Betty, you've told me that Alice has gone, you don't know where the farm is and she's not coming back. With what you've told me, no court would deny you emancipation with your upcoming birthday. I'll sign whatever documents you need me to sign so when you need to get your working papers there won't be an issue,heaven forbid there's an emergency and you need a procedure done, you'd need permission for that too, and when you need to get your drivers license there won't be an issue either, though I'll sure be sorry I won't be there to see it, after how hard we worked to get your permit,” he chuckles as he scrubs his hand behind his neck and hangs his head for a second. For a moment I think I see a glimmer of remorse, but I know this man. There is another person in this room, and it has long legs in a skirt and for that, it is certainly worth a show of feigned contrition. “So, let's get this paperwork for her Meg, and, there's something else she should know too..”

“Hal. Hal, I don't think that's a good idea. Really I think you need to think. This. All. Through.” Megan says through gritted teeth. 

It happens before I can fully process it all. One minute he's at the bars and glass barrier in front of me, the next he's lifted the metal desk chair and launched it against the bars in a rage. Megan hits the ground first covering her ears with her hands, almost as if on impulse. I've somehow launched myself backwards and have landed half on my side, half on my ass. I'll be bruised for certain. I look up at my father who's now pacing back and forth inside his cage like a panther waiting for supper. Megan is already on her feet, somehow.

“Have I made myself clear?” my father asks, picking at his nails.

Megan straightens her blazer top and runs her hands down herself, smoothing any wrinkles out of her outfit, “Crystal,” she says, with just a hint of a quiver to her voice. “Miss Cooper, your father wishes for me to inform you, though it is not customary at ALL in these situations, for me to inform you that there is a small nest egg that is to be given to you in a safety deposit box. Does the name Joseph Conway ring any bells?”

Betty's jaw drops, “Um..” her eyes flicked from Ms. Lovelace's to her father's who looked like the cat who ate the canary. 

“I'll take that as a yes. At Riverdale State Bank you will find a safety deposit box listed for a Mr. Joseph Conway, here is the key,” Ms. Lovelace says, taking a key from her blazer pocket out and pressing it into Betty's hand, making direct eye contact with Hal, “Inside that box is enough money to get started elsewhere. You're to leave MY fee however of $10,000. I'm owed for ALL of my services; lawyer and conjugal,” she says at that point breaking eye contact with Hal and looking directly at Betty and sneering. Betty's face blazed a deep red.

Betty doesn't remember how she got there. Sitting on the bench clutching a bus ticket for Colorado in bandaged hands she sits with her suitcase between her legs praying to whatever Gods there are that no one recognizes her before she can get out of town. It's all done now. She's gotten her way. All she has to do is wait for that Greyhound bus to pull up and it'll at be over with, she tells herself. But she knows the truth. All of a sudden she hears a familiar rumbling of a motorcycle coming from behind. Betty's stomach ties itself in knots and her hands automatically fist themselves, nails sinking into band aids unable to break the layering. Betty's eyes dart from side to side looking for an escape but there is none, and just like that, she hears a familiar voice, deep voice, but not the one she was expecting, “So, looks like she really succeeded huh?” Betty swings around fast to see Sweet Pea leaning over his bike, staring at her, his eyes bloodshot and heavy with bags. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she begans, as she stands, attempting to stow her suitcase to no avail.

“C'mon, we both know Gladys wanted you gone.”

“Fuck you Sweet Pea,”

“Woowoo. No judgment. Just an observation.”

“Well, if we're observing then, you looking like shit yourself. And, why the hell are you at the station? You all of a sudden doing Gladys' dirty work? Thought you were a Serpent?” At that, I gulped, suddenly remembering my predicament, the fact I was talking to Juggie's right hand man and how fast he could call him; how fast this could all fall apart for me.

Sweet Pea docked the bike and that's when I noticed, he wasn't wearing his cut. He was wearing a plain old jean jacket and was carrying a duffle. He made his way over to the bent and scrubbed his hand across his face then motioned next to me, “Mind if I sit?”

I scooted over and eyed him cautiously. My comfort level with Sweet Pea had grown significantly as I had become defacto Serpent Queen, after all we'd been through together as a group, once he saw I was not my Mother, things had become easier. At the end of the day though, he was an intimidating looking man. Sweet Pea was olive skinned, 6'1 with dark floppy hair, more controlled than Jug's, and dark eyes. He was handsome in his own right but definitely had an air of danger about him. We must've been a sight, I thought to myself. He squirmed on the bench next to me, this giant of a man and suddenly, that seemed to settle me a bit. “Look, Betty, I've gotta go. She found out about me informing on her Jingle Jangle game. I don't know who the fuck ratted me out, but I'm not safe either. I am fucking dead if I stay Betty. I'm telling you right now, we are both fucking dead if we stay. You do not understand the pull this woman has,” and I swear, I've never seen Sweet Pea look scared in my life.

My eyes went wide with terror as I looked up at Pea, “What, what did you just say?”

“I'm telling you Betty, that I know what she is capable of. I've got to get out of here. If I stay, I'm a dead man. She told me so,” he all but whispered. “Look, I know we don't know each other that well. I'm not implying anything here, okay? But all we have here is one another. We're both Serpents after all, right?” he let out a pathetic chuckle and looked up at her with a sad smile. It was obvious he didn't want to be alone. It dawned on her then, he was afraid to be alone. Where the hell was Fangs? Fangs let him get into this alone? He didn't travel with him here? Well, whatever the case may be, she was a girl going to be traveling alone as well, and though her inner feminist knew she didn't NEED a man, she didn't necessarily care or crave the idea of travel alone.

“I'm going to Colorado. Mountains. Fresh air. New start. In unity there's strength.” I said to him as I reached into my purse and grasped $200 and shoved it into his hand, returning his small smile.

The bus came not long after, and Sweet Pea grabbed my luggage, as well as his duffle and two plastic bags of snacks we had stocked from the vending for our ride. We grabbed a set of seats in the back and sat down next to one another ready to begin our journey. 

“Fang's is dead,” Sweet Pea's voice is so low and raspy it barely registers at first. We're about a half hour out of Riverdale and it's the first words we've spoken since boarding the near empty bus.  
I look over at him and see two deep, brown orbs filled with tears searching my eyes for comfort.

I reach over and grasp his hand and gently squeeze. It suddenly makes sense why Fang's isn't here, why the dynamic duo that always is, suddenly isn't and my heart truly bleeds for him. “I'm so sorry Pea. Truly,” I manage to eek out before my eyes well up. 

“I'm sorry you had to leave Jug...”

“Pea, don't. Just don't,” I say, and before I know it, all those tears I've tried to hold back are overpowering me. And suddenly in my head I'm searching my memories for those two blue ocean orbs that know my soul better than I do. MY completion of dynamic duo is a half hour away, probably sitting in a booth at the Chock' Lit Shoppe right now with a straw between his beautiful, pouty pink lips as an unruly curl rests on his forehead, none the wiser yet of my vanishing act or how his world is about to change.

“You can lay your head on my shoulder if, well, if you want to try and sleep. It's gonna be a long ride.” Pea says. So I do. And before I know it, I'm asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> **So, as far as the Emancipation Laws go, I followed the laws for my state based on .gov  
> I want to caution that it is NOT an easy process, not something to be taken lightly or as a joke either and I am NOT an expert in it, thank you**


End file.
